—

“Milo, you can’t just ask somebody that,” Young Lady chided. “It’s not very polite.”

“Nor is it very important,” Not-A-Knight added.

“En. I apologize in young Milo’s stead,” said older Milo. “He wasn’t very wise in the ways of the world. Nor was he very used to interacting with people. At the time, it was all very exciting to just have somebody new to talk to.”

Young Lady nodded sagaciously. “Yes. I can understand. It is normal for the young ones to be overly excited by things like this.”

"..." Not-A-Knight coughed. “Young Lady, need I remind you of our first meeting with these new companions? Might I say, with great trepidation and reluctance, that you still get excited much the same.”

Young Lady stealthily threw a pinecone at him.

Tak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Milo tapped his chin. “I think it involved a very bubbly introduction.”

“Satchel snatching,” added Gu.

“Two score and a dozen beetroots,” Not-A-Knight chuckled.

Young Lady protested, “It wasn’t that many.”

"Huff," Pancho blew out some air.

“En. That’s true,” Milo nodded.

Young Lady looked at Pancho, betrayed. “Eh? You too, Pancho?”

“Don’t worry, Young Lady. Pancho still cares for you very much,” Milo comforted.

“Eh? Eh???” Young Lady looked between Milo and Pancho. “What did he say? What did he say?”

“It’s nothing much,” Milo said. He readjusted his seat and cleared his throat. “Let’s continue with the story…”

—

Nahla was horribly embarrassed by the mistake. Face burning, they quickly stood up and apologized to the host that was just splattered with tea.

“Apologies, Milo! Let me find something to clean this up with immediately!” Nahla quickly searched through their pack on the floor and found a spare cloth.

“Oh no, it’s okay. It’s not the first time this has happened.” Milo wiped his face with a sleeve.

“...” Nahla paused. “This has happened before?”

Milo nodded. “The last time was when I was talking to Gu about the Queen of the Northern Forest and I called her Bir–”

—

“It’s not fair! Why can you understand what Pancho means? I want to speak to Pancho too!” Young Lady complained.

“Snort.” Pancho swished his tail.

“Good Pancho,” Young Lady said, then turned to whisper to Milo. “What does that mean? He wants to speak to me too, right?”

“En.”

Young Lady eyed Milo. “...What kind of ‘en’ is that? Why don't I trust it at all?”

“It was the normal type of ‘en.’ ”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“En,” Milo nodded. “Anyways, I believe Pancho wants the story to continue. Isn’t that right?”

“Huff!” Pancho let out another breath in response.

Young Lady leaned back and settled into her blankets, defeated.

“Okay, but only because Pancho said so…” she pouted. “And because the story is a little bit interesting.”

Milo continued…

—

Fortunately, Nahla was busy wiping the floor and hadn’t taken another drink yet, otherwise a certain incident would have repeated itself. Instead, Nahla simply froze on the spot. Cloth held in one hand, body supported by the other, the stunned guest was rooted in place after hearing Milo’s special form of address for the Queen. Nahla kept their head down and continued dabbing spots of tea from the floor.

“...”

“...”

“...” Nahla took a breath. “I’m sorry. You called her what?”

“I knew you must be friends! Gu said the same thing when I called her Birdm–”

“Boy.” Gu walked out of the kitchen and cut him short. “Outside.”

“Milo,” the boy protested feebly.

“Milo. Outside.”

“But–”

“Go play with the cow.”

“It’s an ox.”

“Outside.”

“Okay.” Milo got up and scurried out of the house. “Talk to you later, Nahla!”

He waved back from the door then went over to play with the ox.

“Hello, Mr. Cow–”

Thunk. Gu shut the door.

“Sorry about the boy,” Gu said. “He’s bright. But also an idiot. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” Nahla smiled. “Would you like some tea? Milo very generously made a cup for me as host. I believe that there should be more on the stovetop for you as well.”

“...” Gu twitched.

♢♢♢

"–and that's how I managed to escape the palace and find my way here!" Milo concluded and looked at his captive audience.

Mr. Cow, tied to a tree, continued with his methodical chewing. As for what grand ideas and machinations were going on within the mind of the ox, it was anybody’s guess.

Munch. Munch. Munch.

“I must say, Mr. Cow, you’re a very good listener but not much of a conversationer,” Milo said.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Munch. Munch. Munch.

“Hmm. What else can I tell you about? What else can I tell you about?” The boy sat down on the grass beside Mr. Cow and started absently playing with its fur while he thought.

Munch. Munch. Mu–

Mr. Cow stopped chewing and looked up. He noticed something up ahead.

–nch.

Heading towards the ox (and Milo) from the main road was an old man in beige robes trimmed with elaborate silver patterns. Though he was carrying a light pack, he walked with heavy steps. The man painted the very picture of a travel-weary traveller finally reaching the end of a long journey that they had just finished travelling, wearily. Still, despite the apparent exhaustion, his eyes shone brightly with the intensity of a scholar who had just discovered something worthwhile to present after weeks of diligent procrastination. The old man approached and said some things to Milo that the ox deemed irrelevant. Mr. Cow found it much more prudent to delve within his own mind, rather than listen to the two-legged exchange of drivel.

Thoughts churned through the erudite oxen mind like chewed cud being mashed and swallowed, and swallowed and mashed. Elaborate plans were conceived, revised, swallowed, digested, brought back up again, and refined in a process that had been perfected over thousands of years. It ruminated deeply over matters that no second mind in the world could possibly comprehend.

Then, right as the great bovine thinker was about to come to a revelatory conclusion that would no doubt change the very nature of the world and all of its inner workings…Mr. Cow’s intellectual rumination was interrupted by the intense desire to physically ruminate. The ox set its head back down to the grass and continued eating.

Munch. Munch. Munch.

Milo immediately stood up and showed respect to the old man standing before him and Mr. Cow. It came as quite the shock to see those particular robes and the pack filled with scrolls and parchment. There was no clearer mark than that of an imperial scholar. This deep in the countryside away from anything of interest, there could obviously only be one reason that he was here.

‘Gu’s friends are very impressive,’ the boy thought to himself. He collected his wits and quickly offered hospitality to the second guest.

“Greetings, honoured scholar. Hope your travels brought you here without much issue. Come inside! The thought of warmth and comfort sitting by the open hearth must surely be an upgrade to the frozen earth we stand on,” Milo gestured towards the house. Then, realizing his mistake, he clapped his hands. “Silly me! I can’t believe that I forgot to state my name. It’s nice to meet you. Hi, I’m Milo. Thank you, noble sir, for stopping by.”

Milo bowed once his greeting was over.

The imperial scholar regarded him with a warm smile. Though they had yet to meet, the scholar looked as if he knew a little bit about the boy in front of him.

“Hello, child. It seems to me that you’re The Boatman’s ward. I bid you call me Senan.” He bowed in response. “Though I tote a noble title, such a thing just separates the world into such rigid bounds. It denigrates the working men and women that support our land – the ones who hold no title, but whose laboured hands both till the soil and pave the way for civil life. In any case, I lose myself in chatter rife with heavy tones when greetings should be free of strife.”

The boy was absolutely thrilled by the scholar and gave a polite round of applause before guiding him into the house. “This is fun! I rarely see the Hidden Cant used quite so well. Surely on this ocean voyage we’ll be friends, but time will tell. Gu and Nahla wait inside. Just follow me and I’ll bring you to see the people that you seek. I’m sure they’ll be delighted too.”

“Thank you, Milo. I’ll accept the offer of this gracious host. Such a manner at your age is surely why The Boatman boasts to me in letters of a child that puts my skills with words to shame. With a bit more training you could surely make a scholar’s name.”

Milo was quite pleased by the compliment. With a bounce in his step, he brought the old man into the cabin where Gu and Nahla sat side-by-side drinking a new batch of tea. They looked over when he opened the door.

"It appears that the other guest has arrived,” Nahla said. “Pleased to meet you, imperial scholar.”

"Oh Sémeʔ," Gu cursed.

Senan had a big smile on his face when he spotted Gu. "It's been a while, o' darling Boatman. Times have changed but you remain the same." The scholar moved out of the way as a pebble flew past – Tak – and hit the door behind him. "Even with a child in hand, it seems your manners truly can't be tamed."

"Stop flapping your Noble Tongue. Speak human."

"What could be more human than the sculpted language shared by man and god?" Senan said with a dramatic flair. "The only one who hates it seems to be this grumpy, artless, tea-filled sod."

"Common or I kick you out."

"Acknowledged," the scholar sighed, defeated. He turned to face Nahla and bowed, "Apologies for the delay, it is a pleasure to meet you as well. I am Senan."

"Nahla." The other guest stood up and bowed in greeting then sat back down on the couch with Gu.

Milo and Senan both took a chair from the table and joined them.

With a sigh, Gu put his cup down and went to the kitchen. When he returned, he had a cup of tea in each hand for the two new arrivals. They were graciously received.

"En. This tastes way better than the one I made earlier," Milo said after taking a sip.

"..." Gu took a long drink and said nothing.

Senan's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Tell me more about this tea you made, Milo."

"Well this morning, I was the only one around to host the guests so I went into the storeroom and made some hospitality tea with a bunch of–"

"Stop. I don't want to hear," Gu said and changed the topic. "Is everyone ready to leave tomorrow?"

Nahla laughed. "Of course."

"Yes!"

"...Certainly," Senan said.

“!” Gu immediately shot a sharp gaze at the scholar.

Senan’s hand froze midair and he slowly lowered his tea cup onto the table. He wrung his hands and smiled his most fawning smile. “...Dear Boatman, why do you fix me with such a fearsome gaze? What draws your ire?”

“Because I know that pause,” Gu said. “Speak. Your punishment will be lighter.”

“...Well, you see. The thing is…”

“...” Gu continued to stare.

“A certain noble of a certain persuasion managed to catch wind of a certain innocent scholar's plans to join The Boatman’s voyage out to sea when said scholar was asking leave,” said a certain scholar.

“And?”

“Well, regrettably. Most unfortunately. As tragically as one could imagine. With as much sorrow as a lone swan recently widowed, I must sadly report – keeping in mind that messengers should always be spared punishment at all costs for the news they bear…” Senan watched Gu’s face.

“...”

A bead of sweat rolled down Senan’s face. “I must sadly report that a certain noble will be joining us on this voyage.”

“No.”

Senan shifted uncomfortably. “Alas, my good Boatman. It is non-negotiable.”

“Can I kill him?”

“...”

“A joke,” Gu said, face dead serious.

“Hah…”

Gu took a drink. “Which noble?”

“Viyas.”

“I see.”

Both men put their cups down and fell silent.

Milo and Nahla looked at each other and chose silence as well.

“Moo.”

Tied to the tree outside, Mr. Cow had finally finished formally formulating the faultless idea that had been faithfully fermenting in its formidable, fervent mind all this while. Functionally flawless, ferociously fecund, a floodgate of fathomless fortune bestowed in a fashion befitting the fertile, fantastical, foliaged floor that it fell on. Or perhaps it wasn’t a thought at all. Alas, in this empty expanse of countryside, none could understand the profundity of the oxen mind. None were there to bear witness this turning point in history. None could translate the answer-to-everything that Mr. Cow had discovered. But it mattered not. The ox had simply sought an answer for itself, not for anybody else. His mind was finally free.

♢♢♢

“Mr. Cow, you made such a mess!” Milo exclaimed.

“...Apologies. I didn’t know he could do that,” Nahla said, slightly shocked.

“So sure was I that nothing of interest would happen until we were at sea that I completely wrote off this region as insipid. How wrong I was! Here I stand, called outside by a supernatural din that pierced the firmament and the many layers above, marvelling at a defecation – er, desecration. No, a mighty consecration that has blessed the land.”

“...” Gu walked out, threw a handful of dried mushrooms at ‘Mr. Cow’s tree’ from thirty feet away, then walked back inside.

Everybody turned to look at him.

“Best make use of the ‘consecration,’ “ Gu said. “Come back inside. And keep the door closed.”